


Engaged for the Views

by MalevolentMagpie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blogger - Freeform, Broken Engagement, Declarations Of Love, Engagement, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fame, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, Kid Fic, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, M/M, Meet-Cute, Miscommunication, Mistletoe, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Keith (Voltron), Pining, Public Scene, Publicity, San Francisco Bay Area, Sappy, Sheithmark 2021, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28933056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentMagpie/pseuds/MalevolentMagpie
Summary: Popular wedding blogger Keith gets more than he bargained for when he fakes an engagement with the handsome stranger and single father that falls into his life.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 39
Kudos: 97
Collections: Sheithmark 2021





	Engaged for the Views

**Author's Note:**

> For Sheithmark 2020 Trope Bingo: “Blogger,” “Fake Dating,” “Broken Engagement,” “Adorable Child,” “Characters Collide.” (With a side helping of “Oh Hey, Mistletoe!,” “Big Dramatic Confession,” and, in my opinion, “True Love” of course.) Bingo!
> 
> A big thank you to my beta reader, Al, and to my good friends Em, Myst, Aedan, and Blam for helping me work through character motivation and dialogue! Come join our Voltron Discord server!

Keith cradled his laptop case with the broken handle under his left arm, Starbucks in his right, pressing his right ear tightly to his shoulder to hold his phone securely as he navigated the busy city sidewalk. 

“No, mom, I told you, it’s fine. I have some money saved up.”

He didn’t. His backup plan if he couldn’t make rent in a few months was to swallow his pride and ask to crash on Hunk or Pidge’s couches. He swiveled as some douche on a monowheel zipped past him, narrowly avoiding clipping Keith’s arm and getting a chestful of lukewarm, sugary coffee. A group of tourists taking up most of the sidewalk bumped his shoulder as they meandered distractedly, deep in their own conversation.

“I’m telling you, views are down but I’ve got an article in the works that’s definitely gonna get traction: 10 ways to save on your wedding dress/tuxedo. All the wedding blogs are doing dress savings now, and I have one or two tips that I haven’t seen them mention yet. Yeah. Yeah, from Uncle Thace. After that, I’ll be able to negotiate a higher RPM and get back on budget. Listen, Krol- mom, I- I gotta go,” he said, swerving to avoid an adorable little girl in pigtails as she practically ran into his legs and then past him. “There’s a ton of people around and I’m kinda tempting fate here. I don’t wanna fall-”

Still turned sideways from avoiding the little girl, Keith didn’t see the other person running towards him until he was turning forward again and right into a solid wall of muscle and man. The phone went flying. The coffee cup crumpled in his fist, dousing both him and the stranger. By some small miracle, he was able to at least keep a tight grip on his laptop and protect it while his much-less-valuable ass hit the concrete. 

“Ow,” he groaned.

“Oof!” he heard from the man who was likewise sprawled on the ground in front of him. 

Keith looked. And looked. 

And looked. 

On some conscious level, he knew he was staring, but that recognition did nothing to help him tear his eyes away from what was possibly  _ the _ most attractive human being Keith had ever had the good fortune to gaze upon. He was buff, yeah, and dressed to show it, with a form-fitting shirt that -even covered in coffee- made Keith want to motorboat the pecs that showed through. But he also had a pair of lovely, warm, expressive eyes that were looking up at Keith with a heart-splitting, sheepish grin beneath long salt-and-pepper bangs. 

“I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” said The Vision, and Keith regained enough self-awareness to close his mouth. 

“Y- yeah. That was my bad, sorry - I should’ve paid more attention to where I was going. Shit, I got coffee all over you, too.” 

“That’s alright, I’m sure it’ll wash right out. Plus, it was definitely my fault for running.” The man stood up with a wince that let Keith know that at least his ass was not suffering alone, then dusted himself off and held out a large, warm hand to help Keith up. 

From down beside them, a high-pitched voice called out. “I got your phone!”

Keith looked down and into the face of the same little girl that had run past him before. In her small hand was, indeed, Keith’s phone, screen shattered in a beautiful spider web pattern. 

“Damn!” he hissed, accepting the cell. Then he quickly looked back at the little girl in panic. “I mean, darn!”

She giggled, and the man beside them giggled too. “That’s okay,” she said. “Daddy says that all the time.”

_ Daddy.  _ That explained the sidewalk chase. Keith tried hard not to think about how well that moniker fit the fine specimen of humanity that had almost literally fallen into his lap.

‘Daddy’ cleared his throat. “Don’t think you’re not in huge trouble, young lady.”

“I came back!” she pouted, clinging to his shirt.

“Only because I nearly broke my back on the sidewalk!” he shot back without heat. 

Keith sunk in on himself anyway. “I’m really very sorry,” he began.

The man’s eyes immediately flew wide open. “Oh, no no! I’m only joking, it’s totally fine. I mean, I like coffee. And… sidewalks,” he finished weakly, as if realizing what had just come out of his mouth. His cheeks colored. “My name’s Shiro,” he hurried out as if to cover up his verbal flailing. Keith was charmed. 

“Keith…” he returned, and held out his hand.

Shiro’s eyes seemed to twinkle as he took the hand and smiled softly down at Keith. “Nice to meet you, Keith. Funny running into you here.”

The little girl groaned at the same time as Keith snorted. 

It was then, holding hands and smiling sweetly at each other, that Keith heard the telltale  _ ‘kchick!’  _ of a camera shutter. Scanning the surroundings, he quickly spotted a group of giggling 20-somethings holding up phones that immediately hustled away when Keith glared at them. They’d been whispering among themselves, and Keith had caught his name.

Shiro watched them leave with a baffled expression. “Uh, are you famous?” 

Half-hidden behind her father, the little girl looked up at Keith in wide-eyed wonder.

Keith shrugged awkwardly. “Sort of. Not really. I have a wedding-planning blog that’s decently well-known. Nothing to write home about, but big with the teen girl and young, professional woman demographics.” He cringed as he said, “Sorry, your picture might pop up on the internet for a few days. But probably just on a few Twitter accounts; chances are, no one you know will even see it.”

“No worries,” Shiro said breezily, waving a careless hand through the air. “I don’t have anyone that would have a problem with it.”

Keith was reasonably sure he was talking about his job, but something possessed him to ask. “Not even your wife?”

A sharp glint flashed in Shiro’s steel-gray eyes, so quickly that Keith wondered if he’d imagined it. “No  _ spouse  _ to speak of,” he said cheerily. 

“Oh,” said Keith. There wasn’t mental room for thinking of anything else to say while he was busy trying to tamp down the buoyant feeling in his stomach. 

“Anyway, do you have a business card? I’d love to check out your blog some time! It’s not every day I cross paths with a celebrity.”

Keith examined those handsome features as he fished about in his laptop bag, trying to figure out whether that was intended to be a pun. Shiro betrayed nothing with his pleasant smile, but all the same it felt like there was something meaningful behind it. Handing over one of the coffee-stained cards, Keith took his shot. 

“If you want  _ extra  _ celebrity bragging rights, I’m free for the next few hours.” Keith pointed at his soaked shirt. “Coffee’s on me.”

A delighted grin slowly bloomed across Shiro’s face. His little daughter, who had been watching her dad’s face like a hawk, tugged on his hand.

“No, Daddy, no time! You promised we’re gonna go to the fountain park.”

Shiro’s grin faded into an apologetic smile aimed at Keith. “I wish I could, but Haru’s right. I gave my word.”

Keith’s heart gave an achy jolt even as it warmed from the inside out. He couldn’t exactly begrudge a cute kid her playtime. He crouched down to her level. 

“Fair enough. That’s a noble cause. It was nice meeting you, Haru.”

He formally extended his hand and she took it with equal solemnity. “Me too,” she said very seriously and Keith had to fight very hard to hold back a laugh as he straightened back up. 

Shiro was looking at the two of them like one would a precious cat video. He stretched out his hand, too, but instead of shaking Keith’s again, he simply held his hand for a moment before slowly, smoothly sliding it away. 

“Guess I’ll… see you around?” Keith uttered with uncertainty.

Shiro smiled and held up the damp, stained business card. “See you online.”

Then both he and Haru were off, Haru skipping and yammering away while half-swinging, half-tugging roughly on Shiro’s arm. 

“See you…” muttered Keith.

*****

The article lay finished on the screen. All that was left were minor revisions and picking out the accompanying photos and links. Keith gnawed on his lip distractedly, absently flicking the pull-cord of his giant, soft hoodie. After that damned meet-cute with Shiro, the latter had messaged Keith via his blog to let him know that the coffee stains were completely out but he would love the opportunity to add some more, say, this Saturday at the Starbucks near their meeting spot? Keith had agreed and exchanged contact information, then studiously avoided his blog and all his public social media accounts so as not to get completely sidetracked with all the cute comments that Shiro had been leaving on every single one of his pieces. As it was, he was finding it very difficult to concentrate on his article, and he couldn’t afford that right now. He really needed this article to take off, and contrary to what he’d assured Krolia, he wasn’t actually all that certain that it would. 

He’d just sort of fallen into doing this years ago when, armed with some background knowledge of the wedding industry thanks to his family’s traditional line of business, he’d taken a chance on creating a hobby blog to make some money on the side. It was as much for spare coffee funds as to correct all those other clueless wedding bloggers that were somehow managing to make a living off of advising people when they knew next to nothing about what it really took to plan a wedding.

Much to his surprise, the blog had taken off. People seemed to appreciate tips that came from actual insider experience, and besides that, Keith had always had an eye for catchy designs and dry, humorous writing. 

It also helped that many of his readers seemed to find him attractive - feedback which never ceased to flummox Keith. He knew the names of every major player in the wedding dress design game, but he couldn’t care less about dressing nicely himself. Hell, he showered every  _ other  _ day. Still there was always a sizable chunk of his audience that left thirsty comments beneath his every social media post, and the thirst didn’t flag one bit when he -in an attempt to calm people down- officially came out as profoundly gay on his blog. (If anything, he suspected it had made things worse for some godforsaken reason.) At least his fans’ libidos boosted his blog’s popularity. Before Keith knew it, he was making enough to have the blog as his main gig, and it just… stuck. 

Now Keith was stuck. Because the entire industry was going through a lull, and as a result reader numbers and general interest were down. He had a decently-sized audience, it was true, but rent in San Francisco was expensive. With all that he was well-known and semi-famous, it still wasn’t enough. In other words, he was fucked. He found himself daydreaming briefly about what kind of stunt it would take to bring him back into the spotlight. 

“Guess I could start an OnlyFans,” he muttered, chuckling to himself.

His phone buzzed, skittering across the desk, the cracked screen revealing it was Pidge calling. He had just barely swiped to answer before she was already practically screaming into his ear. 

“DUDE.”

“What the-”

“Why aren’t you answering those posts?”

“Pidge, would it be so hard for you to just once explain what you’re talking about before jumping straight into the ear-piercing gremlin shriek? What posts?”

“Haven’t you been on Twitter? Or Insta? Or like, literally any social media in the past 48 hours?”

“No, I’m trying to concentrate on my article - possibly my last one ever, depending how it goes. A lot’s riding on this.” But he pulled up his various social media accounts anyway. 

While Pidge blathered on in his ear, his eyes roved over post after post with his name in it. He quickly tabbed back to his blog stats. They were booming.

“What the hell…” 

The posts seemed to be mainly speculation, and all referred back to a handful of images - the ones with Shiro and him holding hands and looking way too gently at each other for being total strangers.

“Who is that? Are you dating someone?” Pidge demanded.

“What? No! Of course not! You’d be the first to know, if I was. That’s… just some guy I ran into on the street - literally.”

“Uh-huh. And you just make goo-goo eyes at every guy you meet on the street?”

“Uh, hello? Are you seeing the same pictures I am? Who  _ wouldn’t _ make goo-goo eyes at Shiro?”

Her tone turned sly. “Ohh…  _ Shiro,  _ eh?”

The posts were endless, across all platforms, but all seemed to theorize the same thing - that Shiro and Keith were together, secretly dating, and possibly engaged. His loyal fanbase were gushing over the opportunity to witness Keith’s  _ own _ wedding planning firsthand, after all this time seeing him commenting on others’. Shit.

“So, just to get this straight, you’re  _ not _ planning on marrying this fine piece of ass?”

Keith sighed. “No, Pidge. I haven’t even been on a single date yet.”

“Well, that’s a shame. I mean, not just for the loss of the ass, which is  _ definitely _ a shame for you, I’m sure. But also because look at all these random internet people that your fans are whipping up into a frenzy. They’re making jokes about ‘loyally subscribing to follow this gay telenovela.’ It’s like a marketing campaign that runs itself.”

She was right, he had already gotten a decent number of new eyes on his site. If this were a real engagement, he could document the whole process bit by bit, cultivate a growing number of repeat viewers which statistically were more likely to stay even past the engagement, not to mention share Keith’s blog with their own networks… He could see it all laid out before him like a beautiful, branching, bridal bouquet of rent money. 

“Yeah, that would be great, Pidge. The only problem is I’m sorta missing the most important requirement for a wedding: a fiance.”

“Well,” said Pidge, drawing out the word the way she always did when she was about to say something Keith didn’t like. “Strictly speaking, he is  _ there. _ Maybe he’s not a fiance yet, but that’s really just a matter of labels.”

“Pidge…” Keith warned.

“You said you hadn’t been on a date  _ yet. _ I’m assuming that means you did get his number though, which means he’s available and likes you at least a little.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Look, Keith. The fact of the matter is that you’re about one Mercury-in-retrograde bout of bad luck away from being homeless, and as much as you’re my brother and I love you and  _ mi casa es tu casa _ and all that, I would really rather you not sleep on my couch indefinitely if we can help it. He seems like a nice guy. Maybe he’d be willing to help out.”

“Help out…?”

“Go along with it. Play pretend. At most it’ll be a bunch of pictures and blog posts, and if his friends and family ask he can say it’s for a good cause or it’s a paid gig or something. Hell, you could  _ actually _ pay him.” 

Keith shook his head, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “It didn’t sound like he had family to worry about that. And I don’t think he’d take my money even if I asked him to. But… Pidge, this is crazy. There’s no way he’ll do it. Who in their right mind would agree to that?”

“To what? A couple of pictures? Some blog posts that don’t even have to include any real personal information? It’s at least worth a try to ask. I hate to say it buddy but you don’t have many options left.”

Hours after he and Pidge had hung up, Keith was still thinking about it. It was crazy, sure, but Keith had always been the reckless type anyway. Worst came to worst, he could play it off as a joke and hopefully still be able to date Shiro after - assuming a mature man like Shiro, a  _ parent, _ didn’t have a problem with dating someone sleeping on their friend’s couch. 

Keith sighed. 

That Saturday, he showed up promptly at the Starbucks. For once, he had actually put some effort into looking decent, wearing his favorite red-and-white leather jacket and the tightest pants he owned. Shiro, of course, showed up looking like a five-course meal, and Keith was the Dickensian orphan eyeing the feast. The date went well, or so Keith thought. Space and time kind of flew by in a haze around them as Keith got lost in conversation and the dark depths of Shiro’s eyes. 

Every part of Shiro accepted Keith so easily. He laughed at Keith’s jokes. He listened raptly to his stories. It was the most understood Keith had ever felt. But more than that, he felt... wanted, valuable. Like he truly was something dazzling and special that even a man like Shiro could desire. It gave Keith confidence.

In an almost offhand way, he mentioned the pictures and his audience’s response. Shiro laughed, but he also looked thoughtful, as if he was already considering what Keith hadn’t even asked yet.

“And you said it would boost your blog? Maybe help you get that extra financial bump you need?”

Keith, surprised, attempted to gather himself. “Yeah, but seriously, don’t worry about it. I’ll find a way. Like I said, I really think this next article is gonna-”

“Let’s do it.”

“What.”

“Why not?” Shiro looked excited, and just a tad mischievous. “It’ll be fun. I’ve never planned a wedding before, and it sounds like it would be handy for you.”

“You’ve never-? Wait, Shiro, you do realize what this would entail? People will really think we’re dating and about to be married.”

Shiro just shrugged with way more nonchalance than anyone in his position should have been feeling. “I don’t have anyone for whom that’ll be a problem. Don’t really have any biological family left, besides Haru, and I can just let my friends know what’s going on and that they have to keep it under wraps. Besides, you really need this, and I want to help you, Keith.”

Keith didn’t know what to say. He had planned for all contingencies except Shiro being practically  _ thrilled _ to go along with this insane scheme. “W- well, I guess, if you’re okay with it-”

“More than!”

“It would be strictly a business arrangement, don’t worry. I promise I won’t get, like, attached or entitled, or suddenly start thinking that we’re really together or anything. It’ll all be very professional. And of course, I’d eventually stage a dramatic break-up just before the big event.”

Shiro seemed to lose himself in thought for a moment halfway through Keith’s speech. “Naturally,” he muttered in response almost absent-mindedly.

“And I’d give you a cut of the profits.”

Shiro snapped out of it. “Absolutely not.”

“But-” 

“This is for  _ you, _ Keith. I’m already going to be getting something out of it by experiencing something new,” said Shiro taking his hand, then adding more softly, “with you.”

Keith found himself unconsciously mirroring Shiro’s stance and leaning in over the table, drawn in by Shiro’s earnest gaze. 

“The only thing I want is for you to be happy,” said Shiro.

It was nothing more than a whisper in the middle of a crowded cafe, and it was perhaps too heavy of a sentiment for a first date, but it felt right nonetheless. Emotionally, Keith was right there with him, already feeling far too serious about this sweet, kind man that he had known for less than a day. An appropriate feeling for a proposal, he supposed. 

“Shiro,” he uttered softly, staring into his companion’s eyes. “Will you almost-marry me?”

Shiro laughed, a clear sound as lovely as he, and nodded slowly over his long-cold mocha. “Yes.”

*****

A few days later, Keith’s fans finally received an official answer to their wild speculations. 

_ “To my dear readers,”  _ read the post.  _ “I guess the secret is out. We were really trying to keep it under wraps for as long as possible, but it was about time that we made it public anyway because… he said YES! A few days ago, I finally proposed to my long-time boyfriend, Takashi Shirogane, at the Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park. Readers, I’m so in love with him. And I’ll be marrying this wonderful man within the year, sharing my journey with  _ you all _ every step of the way…” _

The rest of the post read like a commercial promotion, detailing exactly how Keith had planned and prepared for the “long-awaited” proposal ( _ “for more on finding the perfect proposal spot, see my article ‘How to Craft the Proposal of Your Dreams’ in the sidebar” _ ). He hoped it wasn’t too obvious that he’d made his supposedly personal tale of a romantic moment into yet another business post.

A couple of pictures accompanied the text, of Keith on one knee and Shiro looking legitimately flustered. Pidge had helped them set up the shoot. Just for fun, Keith had in the moment jokingly asked Shiro (yet again) to marry him, which resulted in a genuine blush that ended up going a long way towards selling the veracity of the story, according to Pidge. 

The post brought every single one of Keith’s family members and friends to ring his cell in the coming days, and Keith thanked the good sense that prompted him to at least tell his mother before posting. She had wasted no time in letting him know what an idiotic idea it was, then informing him what kinds of photos she wanted copies of when he and Shiro inevitably ended up actually betrothed.

“Mom, it’s not- It’s a  _ fake _ engagement. We’re not even really dating… probably.”

“So you say,” she replied cryptically. “But  _ I’m _ telling  _ you _ that no two people agree to a fake engagement who haven’t already recognized in their partner the love of their life.” 

Those words had haunted Keith every night since.

Personally going through the actual planning of a wedding turned out to be pretty useful in itself. For as much as Keith had secondhand, insider knowledge of the industry, the firsthand experience of touring candidate spots and dealing with vendors taught him a few things that he was already planning to incorporate into future blog entries, and gave him new ideas on what to dig into in his future research.

On a less professional level, it also gave him plenty of excuses to spend time with Shiro. After that first Starbucks visit, which had been pretty decisively labeled as a “date” on both ends, no more had been said on the subject of where their sham arrangement left the real Keith and Shiro. Shiro hadn’t brought up dating in so many words, and in the wake of asking Shiro to play pretend for his business, Keith felt awkward bringing it up himself. So neither mentioned it, and both wordlessly went about executing a perfect facsimile of the real thing, minus any physical intimacy. It didn’t matter, Keith thought. They had time. When all this was over, he would ask Shiro out properly, the way he deserved, and then they’d all live happily ever after or whatever.

So what if this was wreaking havoc on Keith’s heart in the meantime. Because damn, in so many ways, it  _ felt _ like they were dating. Many of their scouting trips for venues could be considered dates for all intents and purposes. The two men went out to restaurants to taste-test, hiked scenic trails for potential locations for a ceremony, visited clubs that could be used for bachelor parties, talked for hours on end at some beachside locale... Sometimes they would end up enjoying themselves so much that they’d forget the original reason for the Not-A-Date. And Shiro himself was no help. He smiled warmly at Keith, and held his hand when they went on long walks, and said cheesy things like how amazing and talented Keith was and how glad he was that Keith chose Shiro’s shirt to ruin with his latte on that first, fateful day. 

Shiro was having way too much fun with their fake engagement, even going so far as to update his own personal social media with photos of the two of them arm in arm at the park or hiking in the Marin Headlands, insisting that they needed to be “convincing” - for Keith’s career’s sake, of course. Keith suspected that Shiro was simply getting too into the farce. But he couldn’t bring himself to do anything to stop it, not when Shiro gazed so softly into Keith’s eyes, stretched out on a rainbow-flag picnic blanket, looking ethereal in the golden glow of the sunset over Twin Peaks.

Worst (and best) of all, Shiro let him into his life. He shared with Keith his hopes and dreams. His history. His fears. He brought Keith home to his daughter who, much like her dad, immediately wormed her way into Keith’s heart. 

Keith was sitting cross-legged on Haru’s bedroom floor one night, being introduced for the fifth time to her small battalion of stuffed animals, when Shiro called from the doorway. Leaving Haru to her play, the two men retreated to the kitchen, Shiro smiling knowingly at Keith the whole way. 

“You’re good with kids,” Shiro said while he prepped three mugs of hot chocolate. Keith sat down on one of the barstools by the kitchen counter, shrugging as he leaned against the marbled surface. 

“I like them. They don’t judge.”

Shiro watched him for a beat, then turned back to stir the powder in. “Ever thought about having some of your own one day?”

“Yeah.” Keith smiled faintly down at his hands. “I’ve always wanted kids, but I never thought I’d get the chance. You know, the whole… being incredibly gay thing. I know it doesn’t make it  _ impossible, _ that there are options, but… I dunno. Somehow, it just has always felt like it would never happen for me...” He floundered, trying to find the words for feelings he was only just now realizing he’d never voiced, even to himself. He felt Shiro’s big, warm hand cover both of his own.

“It’s okay, Keith. I understand. I felt the same way before Haru came along.”

Keith watched Shiro cover the tops of the mugs with tiny marshmallows and add to each mug a sprinkle of cinnamon. 

He cleared his throat.  “Uh, so, you’ve never really talked about it... And you definitely don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with…”

Shiro just looked at him expectantly with an open, placid smile.

“So… So let me know if I’m stepping over any boundaries here, but… How come you never mention Haru’s mother?”

Somehow, Shiro looked surprised in a sad kind of way. “I don’t? Oh. I guess I haven’t really talked about it with you, have I?” 

He called Haru in from the playroom and gave her her hot chocolate with what were likely ill-fated instructions to be very careful not to spill it on her bedroom carpet. When she was out of earshot, he took a seat on the barstool next to Keith’s, bringing the other two mugs with him. Their thighs were so close to touching, Keith could feel Shiro’s warmth through the thick denim. 

“Her name was Yui,” said Shiro. His voice was poignant, but steady. “It was a car accident. Haru was just a baby at the time, so she doesn’t even remember her.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Keith, and he found himself meaning every word. “I can tell you loved her very much. You must really miss her.”

“Of course.” Shiro’s face crumpled. Keith thought his heart was going to burst. “And her husband, too. Both were amazing people: kind-hearted, caring...”

Keith’s brain stopped processing. “Um, w- wait. What? Her… husband?”

“Yeah, Haru’s biological father. His name was Ngoc.” At Keith’s blank staring, it suddenly seemed to dawn on Shiro and, despite having looked like he was on the verge of tears just a moment ago, he let out a startled laugh. “Oh! Sorry! I- Yui was my sister. Strictly speaking, I’m Haru’s uncle. Did I really never-? I guess I’m just used to thinking of her as every bit my own. I’m the only parent she’s ever known. Though I’ve told her about Yui and Ngoc before, of course.”

It didn’t really change anything, so Keith just nodded simply, his chest warming at the thought of Haru and Shiro being all alone in the world but having each other to rely on. And now, after all this time he’d spent with them, even if they didn’t know it yet they had Keith. He’d make sure he would always be there for them, no matter what. 

“Cool,” said Keith. 

“Just ‘cool’? Yeah?” Shiro’s expression looked tentative. Hopeful. 

Keith smiled and let himself gently bump Shiro’s shoulder. “Yeah. Cool.”

*****

The months passed with alarming speed. It was easy to get lost in the whirlwind of planning a wedding. Easier still to get lost in the happy, sunny days spent with Shiro and Haru in the park, or the quiet, domestic evenings spent with the two at their little apartment on Fillmore Street. Without realizing it, Keith ended up spending a lot of time at their apartment, even though with his newly flourishing blog he was safely making rent on his own. It was just more comfortable at Shiro’s place, with him and the kiddo. Warmer. It made the time that Keith spent at his own apartment feel silent and lonely by comparison. 

Many a night saw Keith staying over, after Shiro insisted that it was too late or too dark or too dangerous a neighborhood for Keith to walk back to his place at this hour. Keith didn’t tell Shiro that he, like his entire family, had been trained in hand-to-hand and always carried a well-sharpened knife. He merely muttered, “Good point,” and accepted the chamomile tea that Shiro always made him before bed, with honey and a tiny mint leaf for flavor. 

It wasn’t even for ulterior motives that he stayed - Keith only ever slept on the couch amid a mountain of fluffy pillows and blankets that Shiro prepped for him. It was just that Keith slept better at that apartment, with Haru and Shiro just paces away, where Keith knew they were safe and sound and close by. He didn’t think too hard just yet about what it meant that he for some reason felt he needed to know that. It was already early November; December was practically around the corner. Just a little bit more and they could finish with this act. Then Keith would ask Shiro out for real, and then next time Keith stayed over maybe he would sleep not on the couch but in Shiro’s bed. 

Maybe Shiro would look at him shyly from beneath his lashes and ask if Keith wanted to spend the night. Keith would say yes, of course. They would wait until Haru was sound asleep and then- then maybe they would just cuddle. Even just that sounded heavenly to Keith. There was no better place he could imagine than wrapped up tight in Shiro’s steel-strong arms. He fell asleep to that thought, and woke up to the sight of a tiny, excited face and sparkling umber eyes hovering above him. 

“Good morning, Keith!” Haru chimed, almost singing the words. She was so damn cute.

“Mornin’ kiddo,” Keith mumbled as he sat up and ruffled the tangled nest that was her hair. With a yawn, he got up to fix her her usual Saturday morning pancake breakfast - dairy-free because milk didn’t agree with her stomach, and with apple slices on the side because she didn’t like blueberries. “Where’s your dad? Still sleeping?”

Haru shook her head. “Brushing his teeth,” she said with an eye roll that Keith guiltily noted she had probably picked up from him. “He always makes me brush my teeth in the morning, not just at night, but  _ he _ only does it when you sleep over.”

Keith’s heart did a funny flip in his chest, and he turned his attention more assiduously towards the batter. As usual, he added extra blueberries to Shiro’s pancakes because they were his favorite and Shiro was a firm believer in their antioxidant properties. 

“Are you gonna come to the Dickens Christmas Fair with me and Daddy?”

“Daddy and me,” Keith corrected automatically. Good girl that she was, Haru dutifully repeated the phrase. “And yeah of course, my answer hasn’t changed in the last week,” he chuckled. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I promised, didn’t I?”

“They’re gonna have a Santa! And roasted chestnuts and meat pies and popcorn. Daddy and I always get some. But actually I don’t really like the chestnuts because they taste like wood but I pretend I like them for Daddy because he likes them a lot. Last year Daddy bought me a red cloak just like Little Red Riding Hood. And there’s a place where you can paint your own ornaments, they have all sorts, like trees and rocking-horses and balls. I told Alissa…” 

Keith ‘ooh’-ed and ‘ahh’-ed at the appropriate times as Haru prattled on to the sound of the sizzling pancakes, and by the time Shiro was dressed and shaved and out of the bathroom, most of the pancakes were done.

“Oh Keith, I would’ve helped with breakfast! You should’ve waited.”

Keith shrugged. “I know. Just got up earlier than usual because a little fairy was watching me sleep.” Shiro opened his mouth, probably to scold poor Haru, but before he could, Keith cut in. “Come on, or your breakfast is going to go cold. And after I slaved over a hot griddle  _ all _ morning, too!” Which set Shiro off on another series of apologies and distracted him enough for Keith to wink at Haru behind his back.

Halfway through breakfast, Shiro sat back, looked contentedly around the table at Keith and Haru, and sighed. “I’m going to miss this.”

Keith’s heart caught in his throat. “What?”

“You know, when we do the public break-up. I’m guessing we’ll have to stop hanging out to really sell it.”

The heart in Keith’s throat felt like it sunk down to his stomach. “Oh. I guess you’re right. I didn’t think about that…” 

For the first time, Keith found himself having doubts. He had just assumed, after the initial first date that had gone -in Keith’s opinion- fantastically well, that Shiro wanted the same thing Keith did. Which was to keep hanging out after this whole charade, preferably romantically. For Keith, this had always been a prelude to their real dating. An appetizer. With growing panic, he wondered now if this game had definitively defined their relationship for Shiro - if Keith’s stupid, stupid idea had ruined his chances of having something more real with the man of his dreams.

“Maybe in the future we can hang out again, sometime?” Shiro said, his tone carefully casual. “We’ll have to make sure not to be seen too much, so it doesn’t affect your readership. But,” and he reached his hand forward, as if he would have grabbed Keith’s hand had it been closer. “You’ve become a really important friend, Keith. I don’t want to lose you.”

Keith willed his treacherous heart to slow down. It felt like he could barely hear Shiro’s words over the dull roar in his ears. “Friend… right… Me too.” Catching Haru’s oblivious face in his periphery, he forced himself to focus. There was something more important here than Keith’s foolish romantic pining. Pouring forth all his most earnest feelings, he met Shiro’s gaze. 

“You’ll never lose me, Shiro. You or Haru. I’ll be here for as long as you want me, whatever you need. As far as I’m concerned, you and Haru are family now. I… I get what you’re saying, don’t worry. I feel the same. You’re like-” Keith swallowed back the bitterness that the next few words brought to his mouth. “You’re like a brother to me.” 

Shiro froze for a moment, then gave him a tepid smile. Keith tried to inject as much warmth as he could muster in his answering smile, and failed.

*****

“You’re a little behind schedule,” Pidge said for the third time that week. 

It was the first week of December, two weeks before the wedding was supposed to take place. And three weeks after Keith was  _ supposed  _ to have ‘broken up’ with Shiro. 

Keith grunted noncommittally and stuffed another fry from Pidge’s tray in his mouth. She plucked one of the plastic holly berries from the overflowing Yuletide decorations around their heads and threw it at his head. He might normally have said something to her, but this tiny diner in the city outskirts apparently took Christmas  _ seriously -  _ the decorations around all the booths were so thickly layered that one fewer berry didn’t really make any appreciable visual difference.

“I know what you’re doing, you know. You’re putting it off,” she said.

Keith took his time chewing. “Putting what off?” When she didn’t budge, he resignedly sighed out, “If you’re referring to Shiro’s and my  _ professional arrangement _ , I’m not putting it off. I’ve just been too busy with the blog. Ever since I started planning this wedding, I’ve been getting a ton of offers to do sponsored posts, features on YouTube channels, the list goes on. It’s just good business.”

Pidge, completely unconvinced, just stared silently and with unflinching intensity until she had him squirming in his seat. “Oh my god, you’re in love with him.”

“What! Why-” Keith leaned in close, lowering his voice to an outraged whisper. “How would you get that from what I just said? It’s  _ just _ a professional deal. He’s like a business partner! I’m not… in… you know. We’re just friends. Coworker friends.”

Pidge whipped her phone out and started texting. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Texting your mom.”

“You have her number?”

“Duh. How else would we gossip about you during our weekly chats?”

Keith ran both hands down his face. “Pidge,  _ please _ be cool. If I promise not to make a fuss about the fact that my best friend and my mother are running a gossip circle about me, will you promise not to say anything to Shiro? He’ll be here any minute and the last thing I need is for him to hear this.”

Pidge shot him a sly smile. “I thought there was nothing for him to find out…?” 

She did, however, keep quiet once Shiro arrived, much to Keith’s relief. The man ran in a few minutes later, flustered, with Haru in tow in bright pink overalls. 

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late! The babysitter canceled at the last minute,” he said while sliding into the seat beside Pidge. Haru jumped up on Keith’s side and almost immediately scuttled over to hug him. 

Keith laughed. “Hey there, kiddo. Love the bows,” he said, tapping one of the little pink bow-clips in her hair. She beamed.

“That’s okay, Shiro,” said Pidge. “We ordered your usual for you. Although, we didn’t get a kids’ meal for Haru.”

“No problem, I’ll go-” 

Pidge immediately stood up, cutting Shiro off. “I’ll go get it! You two boys stay here. Come on Haru, you can pick out what flavor milkshake you want.” Then she squeezed past Shiro, took hold of Haru’s hand, and they were off. 

Shiro eyed Pidge’s departure with one brow raised. “What’s gotten into her?” 

Keith willed himself not to blush as he shrugged. 

The two men had just started to catch each other up on their day when a young woman with chestnut brown hair timidly walked up to their table. In a shy voice, she uttered, “Excuse me, I don’t mean to bother but I couldn’t help but notice you when you walked in just now - are you Takashi Shirogane?” 

Shiro’s eyes widened. “Yes?”

She grinned. “I knew it! Then you must be Keith Kogane,” she said, turning to Keith. “My name’s Maddie. My friend Carol is a longtime fan; she’s so totally gonna freak when she hears I ran into you two. I just recently started following you after she told me about what a cute couple you two made! I thought I recognized you when I saw you earlier, but Shiro’s look is a lot more… distinctive…” she trailed off, fingers fiddling with the strap of her purse.

“I get it; off-camera I dress like a college freshman during Finals Week,” Keith grinned. “It’s really nice to meet you, Maddie. Thanks a lot for reading.”

“Of course! Your blog is super interesting! And you two look so sweet and in love in all the photos. I just know the wedding’s going to be beautiful. Congratulations!”

Keith chuckled nervously. “Yeah, uh, thanks. Do you want a picture together? For your friend Carol?”

Maddie melted with a touched expression. “You are just as sweet as you sound on your blog! I would absolutely love that! Oh but, rather than a picture with me, I would love a picture of you two. Maybe under the mistletoe?” She pointed at a green sprig hanging between Keith and Shiro, half-hidden where it lay nestled in the midst of all the other Yuletide paraphernalia. How the hell had she even spotted that?

Keith tried not to look too panicked as he surreptitiously questioned Shiro with his eyes. The latter just smiled placidly, as if they kissed all the time sans mistletoe and this was no big deal. Because Shiro didn’t feel  _ like that _ towards him, Keith reminded himself. Shiro saw them as friends. Just friends.

Right. This was just a business arrangement, between platonic buddies. One of whom was desperately in love with the other because the other was a loveable, kind, caring man and good father and sexy motherfucker and-

“Sure, no problem,” said Keith. He could do this. He could do this.

Shiro regarded him softly, shooting him a private smile as he leaned in across the table. Maddie eagerly pulled her phone out.

Keith didn’t want their first kiss to be like this, a lie in front of a stranger, at a greasy diner, for business reasons. Then again, it was increasingly seeming like this might be the only kiss with Shiro he ever got to have - damned if he wasn’t going to grab the opportunity with both hands. So he did. 

Keith steeled himself, grabbed hold of Shiro’s head with both hands, and firmly landed a kiss right on Shiro’s astonished, devastatingly handsome face. Keith didn’t check to see if Maddie was taking the picture. If the camera shutter went off, he didn’t hear it. From one second to the next, he stopped hearing or seeing anything, completely consumed by the taste and feel of Shiro on his lips. After his initial shock, Shiro immediately gentled the kiss, shaping it into a soft, passionate caress that transported Keith beyond any worldly care outside of this moment. When they finally both pulled away, Keith was a stunned mess. The kiss had felt so genuine, so honestly tender and loving, despite being a complete lie. He wanted to cry. 

“Wow!” Maddie muttered in awe, then quickly cleared her throat. “I mean uh, that was great. Th- thank you for the uh, souvenir photo. I’m sure Carol’s going to love it. Is it alright if I post it online?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” said Keith, shakily trying to recover the pieces of him that had been shattered by that kiss. “We  _ are _ affianced, after all.”

Maddie left after a few more sweet and nervous ‘Thank yous’ and congratulations. When the coast was clear, Pidge reappeared with Haru and a meal tray that had way more food on it than could fit in Haru’s tiny body.

“Sheesh, that lady just wouldn’t leave. I kept Haru away in case it was ‘work stuff,’” she said, sliding in alongside Keith this time so Haru could sit with Shiro.

Shiro gave Pidge his heartfelt thanks. “Not that I think anything would happen, but I’d rather keep Haru out of this whole fake setup.”

“But Daddy, I wanna help!” Haru piped up obstinately. “It’s not fair, you and Keith always leave me out of playing pretend! I wanna play too!” She turned her adorable puppy eyes on Keith like a hungry wolf identifying the weakest deer in the herd.

Keith looked to Shiro desperately. “Well, Haru, that’s- It’s complicated because…”

“It won’t be for much longer, Harucchin,” Shiro stepped in smoothly and ruffled her hair, causing her to let out a squawk about him messing up her bows.

Keith snagged another fry and tried to swallow down the gnawing, empty hole that Shiro’s words punched through him. Beneath the table, he felt Pidge kick him in the shin. While Shiro was distracted with Haru’s scolding, Pidge jerked her head in his direction and gave Keith the crazy eyes. They proceeded to have a silent conversation where Keith minutely but intensely shook his head and Pidge minutely but intensely jerked her head towards Shiro until Shiro turned forward again and the two snapped into nonchalant stillness before him. 

“Well, that wasn’t how I was envisioning our first kiss,” Keith dropped, willing himself to sound normal.

Haru squealed and jumped in her seat excitedly. “You kissed Daddy?!”

“Turned out perfectly, didn’t it?” mused Shiro dreamily as he tried to wrangle Haru into a proper sitting position. “At Christmastime, under the mistletoe, in a cozy little diner brimming with holiday cheer...” 

“‘Holiday cheer.’” Keith raised one brow and looked over to where the single fry-cook that staffed the “cozy” little diner was flipping a burger patty with a surly expression and a burnt-out cigarette in his mouth. 

A noise that sounded suspiciously like an involuntary laugh stifled into a cough came from beside him. 

“Yeah,” said Pidge. “Really romantic. It sure is a shame that you two are going to have to call it quits soon. A real shame,” she repeated somewhat pointedly, looking at Keith. Blessedly, Shiro didn’t notice.

“Oh. That’s right,” said Shiro. “What’s the timeline here, Keith? It’s getting pretty close to our supposed wedding date.”

“Why not just get married? I can be a flower girl!” said Haru.

Keith shook his head with a sad smile and rubbed his thumb nervously over his knuckles. “I didn’t really have a set date in mind for the… break-up,” he lied. “It can just be whenever.”

Pidge stomped on his foot. He bit back a yelp.

Shiro looked pensive. There was a defeated slump to his shoulders that Keith tried not to read into too much. “I guess it should be as soon as possible,” he said after a beat. Keith’s chest hurt. “So we can let down our readers more gently.”

Keith smiled in spite of himself. Typical of Shiro to be so thoughtful. Keith wasn’t sure at what point they had both come to think of the blog’s audience as “their” readers, but it felt right. After all the time the two men had spent together working on this, it no longer felt like  _ Keith’s _ blog alone, but rather their joint project. 

“Ok,” Keith said softly. “All that needs to be done is for me to write a post. I guess now’s as good a time as any to-”

“Wait!” said Shiro. He faltered under the three pairs of eyes that turned to him. “Um, once you write it, then we can’t…” He paused. “The period of time will start when we uh, can’t see uhh…” Keith had never seen Shiro quite like this - so flustered, so unsure of himself. “I mean, we should- Maybe I should help you with the post. You know, um, to commemorate the last time.”

Pidge’s gaze flitted back and forth between the two men. 

“Sure. That sounds good, Shiro.”

That afternoon, the two men sat side by side crafting the announcement post that said the wedding had been called off due to irreconcilable personal differences. They then took turns calling the various venues and cancelling the appointments (the ones that they had  _ actually _ had to make, that is, to keep up appearances). Almost all of the fees were nonrefundable, but Keith had known that from the start and written off the costs as business expenses. Even taking those into consideration, his and Shiro’s little stunt had more than paid off. Financially, at least.

When it was time for Shiro to leave, they both stood awkwardly on either side of Keith’s apartment door, as if unsure of the protocol. 

“Thank you, for everything, Shiro. You didn’t have to do any of this or go along with this crazy plan. I don’t know what I would have done if it hadn’t been for you.” Probably move back in with his mom.

“I’d do it all again in a heartbeat,” Shiro replied in that sincere way of his. Too sincere for the moment, for the wreck that was Keith right now. 

Shiro hesitated on the spot with a complicated look on his face, as if he wanted to say more but was holding himself back. In the end, he moved forward and to the side as if going in for a hug, but Keith had started leaning towards the same side, which stopped them both short. With his already-outstretched arm, Shiro instead moved to place a warm palm on Keith’s shoulder.

“See you around, Keith.” He gifted him one last sad smile, and then he was gone. 

Later, Keith would lie wide awake in the middle of the night and remember that next week was supposed to have been the promised visit to the Christmas Fair - Haru would be crushed. He turned over to the dry half of his pillow and tried to sleep.

*****

The fallout from the break-up post was as expected: Keith’s (and also now Shiro’s) fans blew up social media following the news of the broken engagement. There were shocked reactions, angry reactions, heartbroken reactions, but most of all there was an outpouring of sympathy towards the two men, even several offers to be there in case either needed to talk to a friendly ear. It was touching, and made Keith feel even worse. Most of his fans had been so supportive in the wake of his break up, and it wasn’t even real. He felt like scum for lying to them, though his heartbreak was legitimate. He probably deserved it. 

He replied sporadically to posts and comments checking in on him - just to thank his followers for their concern and let them know he was mostly okay. Shiro had done the same. Keith was conscious that there was a need, even now, to make sure he sounded convincingly heartbroken and depressed, but that wasn’t exactly hard, since he actually was. 

He hadn’t realized how much time he had been spending with Shiro until Shiro suddenly exited from his life. He missed him so much it was like a physical ache throughout his body. 

It was only for a little while, he told himself, lying in bed surrounded by cheesy cracker crumbs and discarded candy wrappers. Then he could see Shiro again. As friends. And nothing more. 

It didn’t help. 

A sharp knock on the door startled him out of his muddy reverie. Pidge knocked like that, but she much preferred digital communication so if it was her he would probably have heard about it already. He carried on lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Whoever it was could wait. There wasn’t anyone that he was expecting or needed to see, and most certainly no one he  _ wanted _ to see right now. Well, with one notable exception that was currently impossible.

The knock came again, loud, insistent. He didn’t have long to wonder who was that hellbent on visiting him because a moment later they walked through the door and leveled a stern glare at him and his cracker-crumb nest. 

“I thought I raised you better than this,” said Krolia with narrowed eyes.

Keith sat up. “Mom? What are you doing here?”

“Pidge told me you were moping and likely wallowing in your own waste. I didn’t think she meant literally,” said Krolia, picking up an empty wrapper daintily between her thumb and forefinger and eyeing it like it had personally offended her family’s honor. “This place is a pigsty! You’re going to clean this up right now and then you’re going to make us both a cup of tea and we’re going to talk.”

Keith grumbled something nonsensical about being a grown adult with his own place (not daring to say it loud enough for Krolia to actually hear), but began dusting off the bed cover and putting away the trash. 

Krolia took the cup of tea he made her and sat down with her characteristic militaristic bearing. “So. You’re moping over a boy.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I am not ‘moping over a boy.’ I’m 30, not 13. And I’m perfectly fine, see?” He threw his arms out wide, but it didn’t seem to have the intended effect because Krolia made a face like her point had just been proven.

“I do see.”

“It’s fine,” he huffed with increasing agitation. “This was just a business arrangement, and I got good business out of it for my efforts. My rent money is secure, my blog is thriving, my skin is clear, my crops are flourishing. What could there possibly be to be upset about?”

“Oh honey,” Krolia crooned, pulling him gently towards her and wiping away the tears streaming down his cheeks. “You love this boy?”

Even now, giving voice to it was too hard. He settled for nodding, sniffing wetly against his mother’s shoulder.

“Then what’s the problem? Why don’t you tell him how you feel?”

“I can’t,” Keith rasped. “He doesn’t feel the same way. It would only be a bother-”

“Keith Yorak Kogane,” she retorted. “Since when have you ever backed down from a challenge out of fear? Don’t assume you know how the other person will feel; you never truly know until you talk to them. If he really doesn’t feel the same way, I will call your uncles. We will set up the tents in the backyard, light a fire, and roast marshmallows, just like we used to do when we first found you. But I can guarantee there will be no need for it, because that boy is crazy about you.”

Keith ran his sleeve across his cheek and gave a weak laugh. “How would you know? You’ve never even met the guy.” 

Krolia responded with coy silence.

“Mom…”

“Since you continually refused to introduce me to your boyfriend-”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” Keith interrupted.

“-I had to resort to finding out information through my own means.”

Keith groaned. “Tell me you didn’t sic Uncle Thace on Shiro’s public records.”

Krolia grinned. “Not yet. I made a ‘Twitter.’ To… investigate. And also because I have been looking to expand our business’ social media presence. But mainly to follow you and Shiro.”

“Mom!” 

“Honestly, I hardly needed Pidge’s regular updates to know that something was wrong. All your reply messages since the break-up post have been short, generic, devoid of all feeling. Nothing like your usual wordplay and sarcastic quips.”

Keith crossed his arms and avoided her gaze. It was something deeply unsettling to be read so well, even if it was by his own mother.

Krolia’s smile was playful now. “Guess who else’s posts have been just as bleak?”

He frowned. He had seen that Shiro was also replying to sympathy posts from their fans, but truth be told he had mostly been avoiding reading them just as he had been (unsuccessfully) avoiding thinking about Shiro or the despairing cry of his soul.

“His words are polite, as always,” said Krolia. “But usually he’s more chatty and effusive in his thanks. Before, he would sometimes even take the time to point out something nice that he liked about the user’s profile picture.”

It didn’t take much for Keith to see it in his head: Shiro, sweet and earnest, carefully inspecting a complete stranger’s picture just to pay them a compliment and make their day that little bit better. Keith hadn’t noticed this about Shiro’s interactions with their fans. So many things he hadn’t appreciated, even as he had thought there was no way for him to adore Shiro any more than he already did.

“Now, though?” she continued. “His messages are short, functional. Some of them have been borderline cynical. That boy is suffering, Keith, as much as you if not more. Pluck up your courage, go out there, and tell that boy how you feel.” 

Keith scrubbed hard at his face as he took a shuddering breath. Then another. Cried out, wrung out, and laid bare before his mother’s blazing determination as he was, his path suddenly seemed perfectly clear. He thought of Haru, and glanced at the calendar on his wall. Today was the day Shiro was taking her to the Dickens Fair. Keith had promised her they would go together.

What was more, whether or not his mother’s perception was right, the mere possibility that Shiro was suffering and Keith could do something to stop it was all the motivation Keith needed to move Heaven and Earth to make it happen. 

He met his mother’s gaze with equal ferocity, then nodded once. She grinned. 

“There’s my boy.”

Keith sprang up from the couch, hurrying to grab his wallet and keys and coat, only to be stopped by Krolia’s hand on his arm, a rueful frown on her face. 

“Ah, but, take a shower first. How long has it been since the last time you bathed?”

“Four days…”

*****

The annual Dickens Christmas Fair was a true San Francisco gem. It had started with a wealthy California couple, the Pattersons, creators of the concept of Renaissance Faires. Following the success of their Faires in the United States, they decided to hold what ended up being a fantastically popular holiday party at their ritzy home with inspiration from the 19th-century and the novels of Charles Dickens. Over the years, the party grew in scale, moved to the aesthetically-appropriate warehouses and wharfs of San Francisco, and opened to the public as a huge, immersive, indoor fair. 

These days the fair was held in an indoor arena affectionately known by locals as “Cow Palace.” Stepping into the fair was like stepping into a fully-enclosed giant movie set, or a miniature ancient London. Hay littered the makeshift streets - alleys formed by Victorian shop fronts that sold flowered hats, wrought silver creations, ornate decorative candles, musical instruments, and Christmas wreaths. Men and women in top hats and hoop skirts casually strolled by the shops and stages and stands, while newsboys in period garb ran past delivering news and missives at the top of their lungs. The smell of cloves, cinnamon, and mead filled the air. And everywhere, absolutely everywhere, could be heard the sounds of carolers and musicians playing to frolicsome crowds.

Keith kept his head down, trying to avoid the convivial barkeeps that called out to him to come to their open-air pub for a drink. A merry-looking Saint Nicholas, or the Ghost of Christmas Present or something, walked by and tried to engage him in cheery conversation. Keith ignored him and kept his eye on the prize. He needed to find Shiro and Haru, but the whole miniature city was visually overstimulating and everyone was constantly moving about. He passed by a few carts selling wares like handmade soaps or snacks. When he saw the roasted chestnut vendor, he smiled to himself.

He supposed he could call Shiro. But it was loud, there was no guarantee he would pick up, and what he needed to say had to be said in person. 

So he wandered for a bit with purposeful step until he came to a great, half-enclosed space with a dance floor, fitted out to resemble a large, rustic warehouse. A sign outside said, “Fezziwig’s Dance Party.” Like everything else in the fair, the space was warmly lit and garnished with wreaths, red ribbon, holly branches, and a set of massive garlands which hung from all corners of the set and met suspended above the middle of the dance floor by an evergreen chandelier decorated with apples and peaches. Dancers in a ragtag assortment of coattails, domed skirts, and jeans weaved in and out and round and round to the festive tune played by the costumed band on the raised dais at the far end. And there, in the center of all the dancers, illuminated from above as though by a halo, was Shiro laughing and whirling about, hand in hand with Haru who was shrieking with delight. 

Keith stared for a bit, struck by how quickly he had fallen for this man, for this entire little family. Their smiling faces at this moment seemed to shine brighter in Keith’s eyes than any star. He had meant what he said to Shiro all those weeks ago. He would always be there for them, would do anything to protect those smiles. No matter what happened today, this he knew for sure.

With a deep breath, he strode forward, dodging the twirling dancers and the occasional complaints when they bumped into him. He made a beeline straight for the middle of the dancefloor, where Shiro was so busy pulling a cackling Haru up over and over by her arms that he didn’t notice Keith until the latter was just a few paces away. Then Shiro stood still, transfixed.

“Keith…”

“Keith!” Haru yelled, and ran straight for his arms. He scooped her up and onto his hip. “I told Daddy you’d come! I knew it. I told him.” She sounded so steadfastly certain in her belief in Keith. He hugged her tighter and blew a raspberry on her cheek to set her giggling again.

“I gave my word, after all,” Keith said. Then he turned to Shiro. “I have something I need to tell you.”

Shiro looked nervous. “Okay… Here?” He looked around them at the dancers who were mostly still paying them no mind, spinning and stepping in time with their partners. A few cast sly glances at where Keith and Shiro were standing stock still beneath the spotlight in the center of the dance floor. 

“It can’t wait,” Keith insisted. “I fu- messed up. From the first moment I met you, I’ve wanted everything with you. Every coffee date, dinner date, even just those sitting-by-the-fireplace-at-home-with-Haru dates. Then this whole thing with the fake engagement happened and everything got so muddled. I couldn’t find a way to tell you that I didn’t want it to be fake. I mean, the engagement sure, it’s a little fast, but the  _ dating  _ part _ - _ ”

“Keith-”

“I first thought, it was okay. We still had time. When all this was over and you weren’t just going along with things for the sake of my job, we could do this for real. Give things a shot. But then you said you just wanted to be friends and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Keith-”

“Wait, I just gotta get this out-”

“Ok, but, when did I say I  _ just _ wanted to be friends?”

Keith blinked. “Over… pancakes. You said we couldn’t see each other-”

“For the  _ ruse. _ But I still wanted to see you-”

“Because I’m a friend...”

“You  _ are _ a good friend to me, Keith. And more.” Shiro stepped forward and grabbed the hand that wasn’t holding Haru to Keith’s hip. She wiggled excitedly against Keith’s arm. “I want that, too - all those dates. But I thought  _ you _ had friendzoned  _ me.” _

Keith gaped. Shiro stared back in wide-eyed confusion.  A ticklish feeling rose in Keith, mirrored in the way that Shiro’s gobsmacked expression slowly transformed into something awed and gleeful. 

Both burst into disbelieving laughter. 

“I guess now would be a good time to confess I was lying through my teeth and I don’t actually see you as a brother?” said Keith.

Shiro laughed harder, head thrown back and one hand clutched to his chest. “That’s good to know.”

Keith let a very confused Haru slide back down to the floor and squeezed Shiro’s hand. “Hey. I didn’t get to finish my epic speech.” 

Shiro, still grinning, waved him on in invitation. 

“Let’s see, where was I?” Keith mused teasingly as he sidled closer, almost pressing up against Shiro’s front. “Oh yeah... I was going to tell you: I don’t want this to be fake anymore. I love you. I love Haru. I don’t care if the whole world or no one at all except for you knows. That’s how I really feel. And if you don’t feel the same that’s okay, I’ll still always be there for you and Haru however you need or want me. I just wanted to tell you.”

Shiro barely waited for him to finish before moving in to kiss him, deeply and desperately, nothing like their first kiss beneath the mistletoe and yet the same in its intense devotion. Keith could recognize it now, in the way that Shiro pressed against him, as if he needed Keith’s kiss more than water to drink or air to breathe.

“How could I possibly not feel the same way?” Shiro whispered against his lips, voice almost pained, before diving back in and kissing Keith senseless. 

Once they broke apart and Keith’s senses returned, he realized that his hands had wandered up to bury themselves in fistfuls of Shiro’s shirt and hair, and Shiro’s had wandered down to dangerously low territory. The gradual awareness crept in that something felt off in their surroundings. Keith and Shiro turned away from each other for the first time in a long while and looked around them.

The band had stopped playing. The dancers had all turned to watch Keith and Shiro. Outside the dance floor, fair-goers and passersby had stopped in to see why the music and revelry had paused and were now also turned intently towards the two men. Even the seated audience in the bandstands beside the dais were all staring in rapt attention. And at least half of all these people had their phones out, of course, filming the show.

“Shit,” Keith muttered under his breath.  This was going to be all over the internet in no time, if it wasn’t already. 

Beside him, Shiro shrugged at Keith and smiled, happy and glowing and freshly-kissed. And suddenly Keith found that he didn’t much care whether or not this blew up on social media after all. The entire internet could implode unto itself, as far as he was concerned. Shiro was here, at his side, beautiful and ecstatic, and he  _ loved Keith. _ All the rest could go to hell.

Keith looked down to where Haru stood beaming up at them, absolutely chuffed. 

“How about some roasted chestnuts?” he said.

She made a face but nodded anyway, which made Shiro laugh.

Shiro and Keith each took one of Haru’s hands and the three made their merry way across the silent dance floor, Haru chattering happily about why they should actually go eat popcorn instead of chestnuts as she swung by her arms between the two men. 

*****

To the credit of Keith and Shiro’s fans, they took the dramatic twist of the filmed public confession incredibly well. Keith and Shiro together hosted a livestream for the first time and explained the true story to their audience, letting them see the real feelings between them - blushing and stammering and warts and all. They apologized for the deception, but it was hardly needed. As it turned out, audiences went even wilder for the romance of fake dating turned real in the face of overwhelming true love. Keith’s (and now officially also Shiro’s) blog grew more popular than ever. 

A few short years later, Keith took Shiro and Haru to the nearby Muir Woods. Secluded in the close, quiet shade of the towering, ancient redwoods, Keith dropped to one knee. 

Once he had finally regained his composure and wiped away most of the tears, Shiro chuckled. 

“You know, this is the third time now that I’ve heard that. How many times are you going to propose to me?”

Eyes red and heart full, Keith gave Shiro a wobbly grin.

“As many times as it takes.”

**Epilogue**

_ Dear readers,  _

_ From hereon, the secret is out. As many of you know, I have been dating Takashi Shirogane (in one way or another) for quite some time. Two weeks ago, I  _ **_actually_ ** _ proposed to him the way he has always deserved: privately and quietly, just him, me, and our daughter Haru, the best little girl in the world and photographer extraordinaire. Her wonderful photos of the occasion are below. You might notice that they’re slightly lopsided and the top of Shiro’s head is missing from every shot, but like I told Haru, I’m sure you’ll agree with me that they look better that way anyway.  _

_ For real this time, Shiro and I will be getting married within the year. But I will not be sharing the entire process with you all, as I’ll be too busy focusing on my amazing fiance and celebrating with our family and friends. I will, however, make sure to check in with you all every now and then to fill you in on how Shiro and I are doing. I owe it to you guys. After all, you are a big part of how we came to be here, together and happy.  _

_ Thank you for sticking with us through thick and thin. For supporting us and cheering us on, in whatever ways (looking at you, creator of that fanart of us as space pilots in giant robots - that was a good one). I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have you all at my back, and this man by my side. _

_ Love, _

_ Keith. _

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Sheithmark everybody!


End file.
